Coffee Flavored Fate
by 00000001
Summary: Sometimes, drinks help to ease the tension. Not in this case. America might need to invest in learning how to not piss off this feisty Italian. —-; re-upload. Slight Romerica, rated T for language, & inspired by Coffee-Flavored Fate!


**Disclaimer:** I do not own Hetalia, to my great dismay.

**authors note;** This is for Coffee-Flavored Fate, who made me into such a Romerica fan, it's not even funny. (Actually this was written a while ago, but I wanted to re-upload it.)

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><p><strong><em>In Present-day Rome, Italy<em>**

America watched curiously as Romano sipped his cappuccino, watching various people walking past the small café they sat. America was quite astonished at how tranquil Romano seemed to be. Every time he had seen the small Italian, he was either yelling at North Italy, Spain, or every other nation, or he was muttering to himself about the stupidity of everyone that surrounded him.

But now, as the sun was just beginning to rise over the beautiful city, South Italy was relaxed and quiet. His eyes shone in the soft light and his dark hair turned gorgeous shades of brown and rustled in the morning breeze. His legs were crossed, and his free hand lying lazily on the arm of the iron chair. He was poised and seemed satisfied with his current position. It almost drove America to be silent the whole rest of the day, just to make sure he didn't disturb the content man. _But,_ he thought, _I want to talk to him. That's why I came here-to try to get closer._

To be honest, America didn't really know why he suddenly took an intense interest in South Italy. It began with the world meetings, and seeing the angry Italian always so fierce and intimidating-a completely new experience for America from hanging around his somewhat weak, pasta-loving brother. Since first meeting him, the powerful nation decided it was his new goal to become Romano's buddy, and he just knew this was where it would start, at this quaint café in the early morning in Rome.

Now he just had to bring Romano back to earth and try to make a friendly conversation with him. After all, you have to start somewhere.

America sighed gently and cleared his throat, causing Romano to hastily recover from his previous state. His eyes, previously warm and gleaming in the morning light, narrowed and darkened as he turned to the American sitting across from him. America flinched and immediately missed the sight. "What is it, American-idiot?"

"Uh… I mean, don't you wanna talk?" he asked harmlessly, giving a small smile. Romano rolled his eyes and made a small 'che' sound before looking away and drinking from his cappuccino again.

"Damn talky Americans…" he mumbled in-between sips. America frowned and leaned forward to cross him arms on the small table. After a moment or two of awkward silence, he made a tiny frustrated noise and buried his head in his arms. Romano looked at him and scoffed, setting down his drink.

"Stop sleeping, bastard. That's impolite. Besides, your goddamn huge head is taking up the entire table," he scowled, nudging the blonde harshly. He was given a muffled groan in response. "Che!" the Italian muttered again, glaring at his companion. "Hasn't that freakish brow-monster taught you any manners? _Get up._"

America reluctantly sat up again and pouted. "Of course he has! I know my manners."

Romano shook his head and growled, "I doubt that. I've seen you fall asleep at meetings, talk with your mouth full, and talk when others are talking. You're an idiot if you think those are manners."

America opened his mouth to respond, and then promptly closed it. Romano nodded victoriously and sat back in his chair and took another drink from his cup. "So you've been watching me, huh?"

The dark-haired man sputtered and flushed, looking wildly at the grinning blonde moron. "What the hell? I have not! I-It was just a statement!"

America's smile remained, and South Italy's flush darkened. He shakily tried to sip his drink again, but decided to set it on the table. America looked at it curiously before leaning over to grab it. Romano turned swiftly to him. "What do you think you're you doing to my Cappuccino?" he barked as America slowly brought it to his own lips.

"Tasting." The man said simply before taking a large gulp. Romano growled and clenched his fists as he felt his face grow hot.

"_Chigi!_ N-Now you've got your disgusting American germs in it!" America winked and set the cup back down before him, earning a mortified look from the other man.

"God, no! You can have the rest!"

"But it's yours!"

"Not after you drank from it, dammit!"

"Heh." America looked away innocently to hide his smirk and said, "It didn't taste good, anyway."

Nothing but silence filled the air as Romano sat gaping at the man, shocked from his statement. _Didn't… taste… good? _My_ Cappuccino didn't taste _good?

He grit his teeth and glared furiously. _Oh, hell no._

"Y-You goddamn bastard! How _dare_ you say my drink didn't taste good? Don't you dare tell me you think that disgusting American crap you drink is better than mine! I swear, you'll go to hell if you think that! You must have no taste buds at all! And another thing, wipe that damn grin off your face, bastard, before I-"

His rant was cut off by America letting out a small giggle. Romano fumed and began to start screaming again until the giggle turned into a laugh. _What the—how is this funny?_

America continued to laugh, shaking slightly in his seat as he tried to calm down. "I-I'm sorry! I just… your face is so red! I-I can't help it!" He cried out in between laughs. Romano gaped at him again and sat further back in his chair, gazing at the blonde.

"You… you idiot_._ You don't laugh when someone is yelling at you. Freaking moron…" he said breathlessly, reaching for his drink again. America stopped short and watched bemusedly as Romano absently finished the off the already cooled liquid.

"R-Romano…" he began, his lips twitching into a small smile. It took all he had to not burst into laughter.

"_What now?_"

"You just drank from the cup."

"So what?" Romano demanded, glaring.

"You don't remember?"

America flashed a triumphant grin and Romano's expression slowly changed from confusion to horror as he recalled America's taste test.

"_C-CHIGI!_" Romano yelped as the set the cup down furiously and recoiled his hand, as though he just burned himself.

"You know…" America started, tapping his chin. "I had some of my _vulgar_ _American coffee_ before I came here… Can you taste it?" Romano gagged and turned away to cough while the man with glasses sitting across from him beamed.

"I hate you so much." Romano stuttered, turning scarlet.

"Aww. Can't we just get along?"

"Hell no."

"Why not?"

"You're a bastard, that's why!"

America blinked and stared at Romano. The Italian noticed this and frowned disapprovingly. "What now?"

"Do you believe in fate?" America inquired suddenly, tipping his head to the side. Romano sighed and wished the idiot would _go away already._

"No. Where did that even come from? You know what, never mind. Go back to your country! I don't even know why you came in the first place, damn nosey giant."

"I believe fate brought me to come visit you!" America flashed a brilliant smile, ignoring the Italian's words, and gave his friend a thumbs up. Romano instantly slapped himself on the forehead.

"Don't make it sound like a relationship! Besides, you came here by _choice._"

America ignored once more him and continued on. "A coffee-flavored fate, at that."

"… Whatever." Romano huffed, crossing his arms and shyly turning his head away to hide his growing blush.

"Hey, America...?" he said quietly.

"Yes?" America shifted positions to try to see South Italy's face, but to no avail.

"I still hate you, bastard."

America stopped moving, chuckled lightly, and then preceded to sit back and glance away. He cupped his hands behind his head and smiled warmly while watching as the sun finally shone brightly and fully over Rome. "I know, Romano."

_I know._

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Wasn't that great, but it was something, eh?

As for the swearing, I actually didn't type the words because I don't swear… I copied and pasted the words. I just didn't feel comfortable with typing the actual words, you know? And yes, America feels that Romano can be intimidating. Shhh! Don't tell him that he can actually be a crybaby. He doesn't know yet.

I know it isn't really fluffy or original or anything. I was just inspired by Coffee-Flavored Fate's numerous Romerica stories. I tried to make it good, but I know it isn't my best.


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